Alone, Not Lonely

What happens when you leave everything familiar behind, only to discover that the one person you cannot escape is yourself?

At thirty-four, I was exhausted. I had spent years working, achieving and trying to prove that I was strong, independent and capable of handling everything on my own.

Then, during a lunch break, I bought a one-way ticket to Canada.

Five months later, I left England with a backpack, limited savings and no real plan beyond the hope that leaving might change something.

Over the next twenty months, I travelled alone through Canada, the United States, Costa Rica, Panama, Peru, Bolivia and Argentina. There were remote cabins, frozen dog bowls, endless buses, food poisoning, political unrest, jungle chaos, unexpected friendships and more than a few questionable decisions.

I thought travel might help me find myself. Instead, the journey kept showing me how much of myself I had spent years trying to hide.

What stayed with me most wasn’t the wilderness or even the solitude.

It was the kindness.

Again and again, strangers appeared when I wasn’t strong or coping particularly well. They fed me, sat beside me, laughed with me and made room for me in their lives.

The strong Justyna didn’t disappear. There was simply room for the vulnerable and sensitive one too.